


Heart and Ear and Eye

by softestpink



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Bottom!Scott, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Smut, Trans Female Character, brief mentions of past child abuse, five times fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-28
Updated: 2013-10-28
Packaged: 2017-12-30 17:54:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,645
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1021644
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/softestpink/pseuds/softestpink
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He listens to Scott’s heart. Because that’s what started all of this, really. Scott and his stupidly enormous heart</p>
            </blockquote>





	Heart and Ear and Eye

**Author's Note:**

> Hi, pretties! This is a five times fic, arguably about the five times Scott McCall has saved Isaac Lahey. I'm unbeta'd, so if you notice any mistakes, please point them out.

**I.**

Isaac's twelve. He's twelve and he's trying to keep quiet because his foot is stuck. Between the rails of the monkey bars, his ankle dangles, angry-red and swollen. Isaac tries to wiggle it and realizes that beyond the strange layer of disconnected pain, he can't feel his foot. No circulation. He sucks in air and hunches over while his heart beats so fast that it feels like he can actually hear it.

Mrs. Bradbury can't find out. She'll take him to a hospital and call his father and Isaac will be in so much trouble. Isaac corrects himself with a firm shake of his head. None of the adults can find out. He stares at his foot for awhile. Never again with the monkey bars. He tugs his ankle lightly, pulling with hands wrapped around his thigh and the pain makes him clench his teeth. Nothing happens and Isaac begins to panic. Recess will be over soon. People will see. Then one of those stupid, nosy new teachers will definitely call his dad.

He'll need something wet to slip out of the bars, he realizes. Isaac didn't bring anything. Not even his Caprisun. It's just him on top of the monkey bars and nearly all of his classmates are playing dodgeball near the fence. He turns back to his foot, and with a grimace, slicks up his hand with spit.

It takes a lot and it hurts. God it _hurts_. Isaac would feel disgusted about the fact that he’s nearly drenched his ankle in saliva (so much that the bunched up fabric of his sock is soaked through), but he needs this. His ankle does give eventually, slipping through the bars with a wet pop. Isaac feels tears in his eyes when the sensation of pins and needles in his foot is coupled with the pain of his ankle.

"Isaac, what's wrong?"

Isaac startles at the sound of Scott McCall's voice so close. He looks through the bars to the ground and Scott is looking up at him curiously. Isaac scrambles to pull his sock back over his ankle- but it won't fit.

Scott squints up and once he gets a good look at Isaac's ankle, he's got this determined face on.

"Nothing's wrong." Isaac defends quickly, but Scott is already climbing up to him.

"Dude!" he exclaims. "It looks like you sprained your ankle pretty bad."

"No, I didn't." Isaac says automatically, though the for evidence speaks itself. Isaac's foot throbs between them and absently, Isaac appreciates that Scott doesn't try to poke at it the way Jackson Whittemore or any of the other kids might.

"We need to get you down." Scott says, like Isaac's problem is his problem now. Isaac arches a brow.

"How?"

"Here. I'll help you." Isaac looks doubtful.

"Scott, it's fine. I can do it myself." he sighs and starts to move down gingerly, avoiding contact with his injured ankle. Scott rolls his eyes.

"Don't be an idiot." he frowns and drops down from the bars easily. He lands and stretches out his arms like he's going catch Isaac. Which is obviously a bad idea.

"Are you crazy?" Isaac hisses. "I'm not jumping!"  

Scott ignores his tone and begins to explain.

"Hang down as far as you can. Then I'll take care of the rest."

Isaac wavers. He wouldn't trust anyone with this, but Scott is just so Scott. He fixes things all the time and he's always so sure, like everything will be just fine in the end. His eyes are warm, the way mom's always were and that's really why Isaac decides to do it. You can always tell people by their eyes, Isaac knows.

He dangles for a minute and then Scott is looping a hand under his knees and another across his back. Isaac lets go and after all of it, Scott is carrying him the way his dad used to carry his mom into their room. Isaac doesn't want to think about it.

Instead he whispers furiously in Scott's ear.

"Don't tell Mrs. Bradbury, Scott." he pauses. "Please."

Scott must see something in his face, because he frowns.

"Isaac you have to go to the hospital. Your ankle's messed up bad." He grabs at Scott's shirt.

"No, Scott. Please. I can handle it."

"I won't let you do this by yourself." Scott says stubbornly. "But I think I can figure out a way to fix your foot without going to a hospital."

Scott walks them to a bench, but doesn't let go of Isaac.

"I'm sorry, Isaac, but we have to tell Mrs.Bradbury. She's gonna find out anyway." Scott points out.

Isaac is deep in thought, so he doesn't notice the Stilinski kid walking toward them. Stiles is Scott's best friend, Isaac knows. They're complete troublemakers together.

Scott doesn't even wait for Stiles to speak. He instructs Stiles to go get Mrs. Bradbury. Stiles immediately snaps his mouth shut and runs towards the building, and Isaac probably would too. Scott looks dead serious.

Everything happens too fast after that. Isaac sees Mrs. Bradbury, who gasps and calls for help. People rush out of the school and someone tries to take him from Scott, who glares and holds him tighter. One of the teachers whispers something to the other when that happens but Isaac hurts too much to listen.

Everything, even time, is measured in the bright-hot pain of his ankle when it presses against someone's arm.

  
  


**II.**

Isaac’s first kiss comes in the ninth grade. She’s pretty, with firm muscles and long blond lashes that catch the light when they lean toward each other. Her name was Johnny, until she corrected Isaac.

“Josie.” she’d stated matter of factly when Isaac handed her the stapler. “I’m Josie, and I’m not a boy.”

“Josie.” he repeats now and tangles his hand in her hair.

It’s something sweet and innocent, for the first time in Isaac’s life and Isaac should’ve known that it couldn’t have remained unspoiled. Sometimes, they tell Isaac’s father they’re working on a project and run to watch movies and play Scattegories at her house. Josie doesn’t know about the freezer. Or the punches. Isaac tells her ‘just a few jerks behind the Stop ‘n Go’ the one time she asks. He likes Josie, so it’s hard when she finally ends the stolen kisses in the park and behind the bleachers in the gym with a whispered “You’re so afraid of him that you can’t even hold my hand in school.”

“I know he’s hurting you, Isaac.” she reaches up and strokes the yellowing skin underneath his left eye one day. “If you would just let me tell someone-”

“No. You can’t.” Isaac grabs her wrist, panic twisting his stomach in knots. It’s an argument they have nearly every morning on the bus to school.

“Fine.” she hisses and shoves away his hand when he tries to push a strand of her hair behind her ear.

Isaac cries silent tears when she leaves him standing in his own driveway, because she’s right. Because it’ll never end. He’s never going to leave his father, and he’s always going to be afraid.

“Hey!” Isaac looks up and there’s Scott of all people coming down the block, covered in dirt and smiling. He frowns when he sees Isaac’s face.

Isaac hastily scrubs his face with his sleeve, affecting an apathetic scowl.

“Hey.”

Scott doesn’t let the staring get awkward as he jogs closer. “Do you want to get some food? I was just about to get some Mexican.”

Isaac knows he should reject the request. Because he’s only asking for trouble. Because he’s only furthering Scott’s nosy, white knight streak. But suddenly he’s lonely and the cloud of unhappiness that usually looms in the back of his mind is violently pushed to the front.

‘I don’t want to be alone.’, he doesn’t say.

“Sure.”

And when his father comes home furious and lowers him into the freezer that night, the ever-present tightness in Isaac’s chest loosens up just a little, because the memory of Scott whispering ‘It’s alright to cry. My mom always tells me that.’ seems worth it.

He tries, but he can’t seem to regret burying his face into the groove of Scott’s shoulder for twenty minutes in the middle of _Los Galanes_. The smell of Scott’s lacrosse jersey stays with him even in the cramped hell of the old icebox and he doesn’t suffocate this time.

 

**III.**

“Your hero complex is astounding.” Isaac says drily, but his stomach is twisting in a weird way, and the only time he’s ever felt anything like this is when Josie would wrap her arms around his shoulders and stand on her toes to kiss his forehead.

Gerard is gone, his two backup hunters are lying crumpled on the floor, and Scott’s eyes are still glowing when answers “I wouldn’t let anyone hurt you.”

“Like I said, hero complex.” Scott rolls his eyes.  

“He had a sword.” Scott says, like that explains the bout of righteous fury that Isaac just witnessed.

“Yeah, I noticed.” he grimaces and stands. The wound in his side is nearly finished healing. He’s taller than Scott now, after his ridiculous growth spurt from last summer. But somehow Isaac still feels small. “Amazing in-laws you’ve got, by the way.”

He says it as a reminder to the both of them because Scott is beautiful and strong and leagues away from Isaac, who is barely even _friend material_ on the best of days.

 

**IV.**

Derek kicks him out in the cruelest manner possible and in a fit of bitterness, Isaac congratulates him for it. Hale was smart after all. Who knew? Cutting Isaac off before it backfired. Great plan. Didn’t work so well for his father.

He isn’t denying the fact that it hurts, that the memories of his father are threatening to swallow him whole as he gasps for breath and runs down the stairs and out the door.

All he has are the clothes on his back when he steps outside and- _oh of fucking course_. It’s raining buckets outside because he’s apparently living in a Lifetime movie. The kind where the day you catch a break is the day you die. He isn’t sure where he should go at first. There’s a homeless shelter he knows of but it’s miles from Derek’s and there are too many complications. With his luck, he might end up ripping some poor man’s throat by accident and then ending up back in police custody.

He considers going to the Sheriff, but that’ll only lead trouble back to Derek, who must already seem skeevy with his eyebrows and his tendency to loiter around the school campus. He might be pissed at him, but Isaac would never intentionally put his Alpha in harm’s way. Before he makes a decision, his body’s already moving.

Because he knows what he was trying to avoid.

Scott.  

“I need a favor.” he says once Mrs. McCall ushers him in from the rain and sends him upstairs. Scott is on his bed reading something, probably schoolwork, and for a moment Isaac is struck with such admiration that he falters.

Scott is studying. Scott is trying. He takes notes and listens and does the required reading all while keeping up with the bullshit that’s been coming at him from all sides for an entire year. He’s a fucking soldier if Isaac ever saw one and that reminds Isaac of Camden, who dealt with dad and made honors society his last year of school.

“Isaac! What happened?” he’s closing the book, looking like whatever he was doing doesn’t even matter because Isaac is _important_.

Ridiculous.

“I- I’m kind of homeless as of right now.” he wants look away but he’d probably feel even more childish than he does right now, scratching the back of his neck and dripping all over Scott’s floor.

“No you’re not.” Scott says reflexively but when Isaac opens his mouth he continues. “No- no you’re staying here.”

The _with me_ isn’t voiced but Isaac hears it anyway and he thinks if it was allowed- if he _could_ , he’d kiss Scott McCall.

 

**V.**

They’re lying in bed together, arms barely brushing, and Isaac can barely contain himself. It’s the full moon and Melissa’s gone and there’s nothing and everything stopping him from leaning over and pressing his lips to Scott’s. His senses are a muddled mix of Dove soap, Scott, and most importantly, arousal. One second he’s trying to suppress his hard-on and the next, Scott is climbing over him, settling his warm weight down over Isaac.

Isaac chokes and succeeds only halfway in sitting up.

“I know...” Scott starts, licking his lips nervously. “how you feel about me. I feel it all the time. I smell it in the air.”

_The tension had been almost unbearable for the first three weeks that they’d shared a room-_

_muffled one-offs with his own hand in the bedroom while Scott showered_

_lingering gazes and awkward coughs when one of them undressed in front of the other_

_the insisting brush of Scott’s thigh against his on the couch when they studied together_

\- but Isaac never thought Scott...he only chalked it up to the fact that _he’d_ wanted Scott for so long.

But now- now that Scott’s hovering over him in his lap, staring down at him with something like pure admiration, he finds himself squirming.

He leans forward and his mouth brushes the top of Isaac’s ear and some of his hair when he whispers. “I hear it. When I’m in the shower and you think I can’t hear you. When you touch yourself and come in my- in _our_ bed, I hear you.”

Isaac’s mouth feels dry.

“I want you to fuck me.” Scott tells him after the silence has stretched too long. Isaac’s eyes nearly bug out of his head and he swallows, hears the wet click of his own throat in the quiet darkness. “Please.”

He says the words like they’re practiced, and they probably are.

“Yes.”

He whispers because he thinks it’s right- thinks that even something as simple as his voice could ruin the fragile weight of this moment. Scott’s grinds down slowly, bare ass cradling the tent of Isaac’s dick in his underwear, and Isaac’s mouth drops open on an exhale. He can’t stop the frantic rut of his hips up and into Scott and judging by the undignified noises that Scott makes above him, it sounds like he’s fine with it. His hands are warm- almost too warm when they reach down to rid Isaac of his underwear. He lifts up and when Isaac grabs his bicep in protest there’s that patented Scott Smile.

The reassurance that everything will be- that everything _is_ perfect.

He throws Isaac’s boxers somewhere Isaac can’t be fathomed to care about and then he’s spreading Isaac’s legs. Scott’s mouth descends in a wet-hot, open-mouthed kiss to the jut of Isaac’s hipbone and it sends him reeling. He’s barely regained the power of words before Scott looks up with a bashful grin.

“I’ve never...you know...on a guy. Tell me if I’m doing alright?” and then he’s swallowing down Isaac’s dick.

“ _Fuck!_ ” Isaac’s shout comes unbidden and Scott only buries his nose in Isaac’s sex, running a hand up Isaac’s sternum.

He pulls up and starts a choppy rhythm that has Isaac panting and tearing at the sheets like an animal. It’s the best blowjob of his life if he’s being truthful. Scott seems to have no gag reflex as he takes all of Isaac in with eager hums. He’s focused, wearing a determined little frown that would only be adorable if he wasn’t currently slurping at Isaac’s cock. Now it’s kind of the hottest thing Isaac’s ever seen.

He swirls his tongue and Isaac lifts off of the bed with an appreciative gasp, running a hand through Scott’s hair. He closes his eyes and tries to hold out- to block out everything and focus, but it’s too much. Scott’s hand on his heart. Scott’s tongue tracing patterns on the shaft of his dick. And above all staring at him like Isaac is something beautiful.

“Scott! I’m- Scott, I’m-” he can’t seem to remember how to tell Scott that he’s about to come. In fact, he seem to remember how words work at all.

But Scott seems to understand because he pulls off with an excited grin. Isaac hauls him in by the back of the neck and crashes them into a kiss. Scott tastes like him and he feels a little bit guilty for liking that so much. He pulls back to suck a bruise onto the soft skin of Scott’s neck. A part of his brain knows that he’s scent-marking and that he should’ve probably consulted Scott about it first, but everything is a muddled mix of _**goodyesperfect**_ skin sliding together.

“You said-” Isaac pants. “that you’d never done that before.”

Scott’s eyes flash yellow when he answers, “I may have googled a bit.”    

He isn’t sure when Scott put the lube on the bed, but suddenly it’s there under his fingers when he stretches out his arm.

“Condoms?” he asks, embarrassingly breathless and Scott smiles again.

“Nightstand.”

Isaac nearly rips the drawer out in his haste. He finds a ton of packets and he fumbles a bit before getting one open. He’s never been this hard in his life and he sucks in a breath as he smooths the latex down with one hand.

Scott’s watching him, pupils blown with a hand around his own dick.

“You have to stretch me.” he says, hoarse. “That’s what the website said. Also, Stiles. Stiles said that too.”

Isaac grimaces.

“Can we maybe not talk about your best friend while we have sex?”

Scott laughs nervously.

“Yeah. Yeah- no. No more Stiles. I’m not even thinking about Stiles right now.” Isaac can’t help but roll his eyes.

“Lay on your stomach.” is all he says and Scott complies.

And then Isaac is faced with a whole new problem.

Because Scott McCall’s ass is a problem. The worst problem.

Isaac bites his lips and tentatively palms at the the tight, soft skin and a squeak leaves Scott’s mouth that has Isaac grinning like a shark.

“Sensitive?” he asks, smiling even harder when Scott mutters a grumpy ‘no’ into the pillows.

He breaks off with a mewl when Isaac spreads his cheeks and dips a finger into the crack. Isaac goes a little heavy-handed with the lube because more than anything, he doesn’t want to hurt Scott.

The first finger meets so much resistance that Isaac gives up on his index finger and starts with his pinkie. When Scott finally relaxes into it, he pulls out with a small squelching sound and tries again with his first finger. There’s a muffled moan in the pillows when he wiggles his finger against the small ridge inside of Scott and Isaac kisses the back of Scott’s neck. He adds another finger and Scott seizes up with a whimper.

“Are you alright?” Isaac asks immediately and the only answer he gets his a loud moan from Scott, who’s panting open-mouthed into his pillow. Isaac smirks and searches for the bundle of nerves again.

The shout Scott gives is almost as gratifying as the slap of his hand against the headboard. Isaac doesn’t stop until Scott is practically fucking himself on his fingers and humping the life out of the bed.

“Isaac! In me! _Now_!” That technically doesn’t make sense, Isaac thinks cruelly, but he relents and pulls his fingers free carefully, giving one of Scott’s cheeks a light smack.

He already leaking precome into the condom when he hovers over Scott, who turns over.

“I wanna see you.” he says with swollen lips and sweat-slick hair sticking to his forehead.

Isaac pushes in slow, with Scott scratching insistently at his shoulders.

“More.” he gasps and Isaac has to shut his eyes and focus on keeping it good for Scott.

“C’mon, Lahey.” Scott gasps in his ear. “I can take it.”

and Isaac snaps when Scott pulls at his hair.

He grips at the covers and slams in, revelling in the tight warmth of Scott. He can’t stop himself, snarling into Scott’s ear about nosy boys that should just mind their own business. He pulls out, ignores the grunt that punched out of Scott’s lungs, and flips him, placing Scott’s sweaty palms on the headboard.

“Hold on.” he commands and Scott obeys.

He fucks Scott hard, because he can take it. He said so himself. And when Scott comes it’s abrupt. A loud cry and a jerk of his hips and Scott’s a shivering mess in his arms.

Isaac falls forward, covers the length of Scott’s hot back with his body and whispers a litany of promises he won’t ever be able to keep into the sweat-soaked skin.

“I can’t- can’t- I-” he hears himself, broken and small and suddenly Scott is twining their fingers together, kissing Isaac’s knuckles. His fingers are slack but his hips are anything but, thrusting so hard that distantly, Isaac hears the smack of the headboard against the wall.

“You can.” is all he mumbles. “ _Oh god_ , I know you can, Isaac.”

And that’s all it takes for Isaac to come apart, wheezing Scott’s name like a prayer.

Scott’s the one that pulls off the condom and throws it in the garbage, while Isaac lays on the sticky covers, overwhelmed. He crawls back onto the bed, tugs Isaac close and tangles their legs together. Scott brings him back with butterfly kisses and sincere eyes.

“I’m here.” is all he says when Isaac burrows into the white-hot center of Scott’s chest. “I’m here.”

He listens to Scott’s heart. Because that’s what started all of this, really. Scott and his stupidly enormous heart.    

 


End file.
